


bloom (or why you shouldn't pick the prettiest flower in the field)

by togamis



Series: bloom au [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age of Ultron, Angst, Civil War, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Protective Bucky, Soulmarks, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, canon violence, kinda anti cap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/togamis/pseuds/togamis
Summary: Flowers grow in lungs that don't breathe.Tony Stark learns this the hard way.





	1. chapter one

The goddess sighed, intertwining the flowers around each other to form a crown. The thin stems interwove easily, creating a beautiful array of different colours. Once it was finished she carefully placed it on her head, smiling to herself and twirling around. A glimmer on her mirror caught her attention and she wandered over, sitting down in front of it. She saw the usual; humans fighting, ruthlessly killing each other and getting away with it.  Innocent people being convicted of crimes they didn’t commit, forced to spend a life in prison. Ever since humanity had been created, this problem had been there. The Goddess had multiple ideas on how to stop this, but as time passed she didn’t see the need to implement them. Things had been getting better; governments were established, peace treaties enacted, and justice systems broken and rebuilt. However, the injustice still continued. Having had enough of it, the Goddess put her plan into motion. For each person there would be a matching flower on someone else; this would be their soulmate, one who they would spend their life with. There could be platonic soulmates, of course, but each person had another to call their own. These flowers would be randomized, meaningless.

Unless a murder was committed.

The beginning flower was the same; a simple one meaning death on the left side of the middle finger. From there, a flower corresponding to each life taken would appear on the other fingers. Once all ten were filled, the flowers would begin appearing at the feet and flow upwards. The Goddess, in this sense, was ruthless; it didn’t matter if it was intentional or not, or directly caused by them. For each life a person took, they would receive another flower. It took a few generations for the humans to catch on; by the time they did, it was easy to see who had done it. Most people took to covering up their extra flowers with concealer or paint. It was something to be ashamed of, having taken another person’s life.

While there will still wars, the Goddess noticed, the amount of overall crime was beginning to grow less and less. The people with the extra flowers were cast out from society, unloved and deemed unworthy of redemption. This hadn’t been the one that the Goddess had intended, but she was forbidden from intervening more. There were laws, ones that not even she could break. So the Goddess sat back and watched as her creations reacted to the flowers, guiding them behind the scenes to the future.

Tony Stark had flowers up to his lower thighs. He painted his fingers every day, only showing the nightshade that twisted around his wrist like a bracelet. Flower’s appearing where what happened when you were a merchant of death. It was something he had gotten used to, a burden he wore on his shoulders like the weight of the world. Rhodey and Pepper were the only two people who knew the extent of his flowers. The only two people he trusted to know the in first place. Not even his own teammates knew to which lengths the flowers grew, twisting and growing their way up his legs like vines. He had accepted this long ago, having stopped making weapons and instead trying to promote clean energy and peace. The damage was already done, and there was no way of reversing the flowers.

What a scandal that would be if the media ever got hold of it. People had theories, they assumed, but no one knew the truth except Tony. It was a truth he was planning on taking to the grave. Many of the flowers were the same, meaning quick and painless. Some were more gruesome, slow and painful and terrifying. He’d stopped trying to figure their significance out long ago, deciding not to make himself feel worse than he already did for the crimes he committed when he was younger. There was no taking back the pain he had caused, although most of it indirectly.

So he painted his fingers, wore long pants and continued on with his life as if he only had that one flower. It was pretty easy to forget the fact that he had a soulmate when he was busy saving the world every other day. That he would be deemed worthless and unworthy of love if anyone found out. He already was, in his humble opinion, but Pepper and Rhodey thought strongly otherwise. They had tried to convince him on multiple occasions that what everyone else said wasn’t true; that they had been with him through his darkest times, that he was still worthy of the person who was destined for him.

He posed the question “and if they said no?” in retaliation.  
That didn’t go well. On his end.  
_That_ particular conversation had ended with Pepper threatening to ruin their social lives, and Rhodey threatening to have a ‘talk’ with them. Both of which were terrible ideas despite their vehement approval from Happy. It wouldn’t end well, finding his soulmate, and Tony had accepted that from the second he was smart enough to realize what the flowers really meant. Which had been very early on. Whoever was in charge apparently decided that he was responsible for his parent’s deaths; indirectly, of course, but directly all the same. It was a cruel realization on his end, one that lead to a night of heavy drinking and a _very_ bad hangover.

It had taken Rhodey two years to finally get it through Tony’s skull and into his genius brain that, even if the universe decided it was his fault, it _wasn’t_. There was no possible way. Instead of dwelling on the fact that the universe hated him, Tony continued on. He went to therapy every week for an hour, talked about his feelings, then went to boring press meetings that he really didn’t need to be at. He provided for the avengers, saved the world every now and then: overall, life was good.

It all had to come crashing down at some point, he supposed. Life wasn’t just full of up’s, especially when you were a billionaire and a Stark. And when the world came crashing down, it came crashing down _hard_ on Tony Stark. It left lasting effects, Anxiety, PTSD, nightmares, and a whole laundry list long of mental illnesses in its wake. It left him with trust issues and triggers and things he would rather not deal with. Ever.  His crashes lasted months, the longest one being three in the deserts of Afghanistan and battery in his chest with hopes that the shrapnel wouldn’t reach his heart. It was terrible and horrifying in every way imaginable.  
So, in hindsight, he should have seen it coming.  
It starts with Ultron.


	2. chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the flowers creep higher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couple things! first of all, i'm really surprised and happy at the attention this is reciving. I didn't think it would be that popular, so it's kinda blown my mind. Second, i have a tendency not to reply to comments. this doesn't mean i dn't see them, and i love it when i get them (they make my day), but just know that i am thankful for every one i recieve!  
> thirdly, this story (for here on out) will be beta'd by my soulmate nat. thanks squish <3  
> finally, please keep in mind that this is indeed an original idea. the soulmate aspect not so much, but the whole 'you-kill-someone-you-get-flowers' thing is. if you wanna write something using that, go ahead, but please credit me with the idea (and link me!! i wanna read it lol). thanks loves, and enjoy this chapter.

Ultron?

Ultron was a fucking disaster.

Tony Stark knows AI’s—it’s what he does, what he’s been doing since he turned sixteen and made DUM-E. He makes life from lines of zero’s and one’s, giving sentience and taking it away just as easily. Ultron was supposed to be a peace project; to stop whatever outcome that witch had put in his head, to save the world when the avengers couldn’t.

Instead, he gained sentience without Bruce or Tony’s knowledge. Instead Ultron got ahold of the internet and decided humanity needed to burn. Not that Tony could really blame him; he’d do the same thing, a small voice at the back of his mind provided. The project grew too fast, and too soon, effectively wiping JARVIS out to the point where not even Tony, his creator, could salvage him. Not one piece of code left. It was all gone. And then, as if everything that had already happened wasn’t enough? He got free. Ultron, essentially a child, with no morals and a lust for blood got free and made his way into the world filled with innocent people.  
As the days went by, the flowers inched their way upwards. He hadn’t had time to figure out the ratio of death to flower yet, but it had to be up in the thousands.

Tony’s main priority? Stop the thing, and make sure nothing like this ever happened again. It was easier said than done, of course; tensions within the team only grew higher with the death count. The flowers inched further. Like any other villain, Ultron was stopped, eventually. It took a god, a super soldier, two assassins, a god, a witch, a man of iron and the entirety of SHIELD’s artillery to stop Ultron once and for all. Tony, of course, paid the price.

Not the witch who implanted the memories in his mind.  
Tony. The one who had only been trying to help, who had only wanted to stop the deaths of his friends, yet caused many others. Tony, who had only been looking out for his teammates—if he was even allowed to call them that anymore—and instead got paid back with coldness and harsh words designed to cut through the heart with ease. He was better at playing the narcissist, the devil-who-could.  
Breaking down in his lab at three am looking over the final death count clearly wasn’t what he tried to be. No one saw it, of course, they never do, and the team only fractured more. It took the creation of FRIDAY and KAREN to finally convince everyone that he was, in fact, a genius. The he did, in fact, know what he was doing, especially when it came to Artificial Intelligence.

What he didn’t tell them, was that FRIDAY was more than JARVIS could ever be. She was young, yes, but learned fast. She was sarcastic and witty and everything Tony had wanted her to be. Within a month she could use tone in her voice, warmth and concern and multiple other human emotions. She could communicate with all of the bots, directing them and teaching them like an older sister. While FRIDAY may have been young, she was smart. She knew that the other Avengers didn’t care about her creator.  
Until one day, things began to change. Once that change started, it kept on going. Soon enough they could be considered a team again, and then a family once more. It took two years of trial and tribulations, but they were finally back to where everything had started. A family. Gone were the cold glares and the whispers they thought he couldn’t hear. Gone were the threats from Rhodey and Pepper that if they didn’t quit it, there wouldn’t be another chance.

Instead, in its place, there was warmth. Love. Unity. Sure, Tony still disobeyed orders and alluded medical every chance he got. Everyone was working together, and the flowers stopped their creeping. They were peaking at his lower hip now, a lasting reminder of what must never happen again. There were days that Tony wondered if anyone else had as many as he did. Clint and Natasha were bound to have at least a few, and the Captain was too.

His questions never got answered.  
Tony forgot that he was in the middle of a crash. That was his first mistake.  
His second was thinking that the crash wouldn’t keep crashing; that maybe, just maybe, it was finally beginning to take a turn uphill.

His third mistake, though? Oh, his third mistake was the worst. And it was one he never saw coming. At least, not until he was staring Steve Rogers and the man who killed his mother down in a Siberian base, freezing and furious and eyes stinging too much to be from the cold. His final mistake was acting on his fury, taking it out on someone who couldn’t control themselves even if they wanted to. While Tony doesn’t remember the actions, not clearly, the video feed FRIDAY gives him is enough.  
His fourth mistake left him dying, alone and cold and afraid. He wondered if that flower had made its way onto Steve’s fingers.

Betrayal was a funny thing.

It left his chest stinging, his breath coming is gasps and tears welling in the corners of his eyes. It felt like his heart was being crushed from the inside, by some invisible force that no medicine could fix. He had honestly thought that they were family; that Steve would stick by his side, even after everything that’s happened. He never thought one man could turn the tides so easily, take everything Steve Rogers was and rip it apart. Turn him from a cool and collected Captain to frantic and erratic, doing anything and spilling anyone’s blood for the man who killed his parents.

Tony couldn’t say he was too upset about Howard. He had been a terrible father and an ever worse person, neglecting and abusing his son who only wanted his approval. His mother, though. His mother stung. His mother’s death had ruined him, drove him to drinking (he was two years sober). In the midst of the anger towards Steve, the hurt, he realizes something; he doesn’t blame the Winter Soldier. This realization surprises him. After a little bit of digging, it’s easy to find out why.

James Barnes had been a prisoner of war. He’d had his arm removed and replaced with a mental killing machine, brainwashed and trained and conditioned for eighty years. It hadn’t been his fault; he had been the gun, and HYDRA had pulled the trigger. Sure, he could blame him—no doubt the guy already feels terrible enough about it—but nothing good would come out of it. Sure, Steve’s betrayal hit him in places Tony hadn’t thought had been open, but he’d been like this before. He’s been betrayed and come out alive, stronger than before. This was just another bump in the road.

His first task? Get James Barnes pardoned. He could think about Steve and the rest of his team when the time came for it. Which wouldn’t been soon. Tony was fine with leaving them in Wakanda for the time being; if King T’Challa wanted to host known terrorists and fugitives that was his problem to deal with.  
Tony, however. Tony would wage a silent and deadly war. The Prize? Barnes’ freedom.


	3. interlude #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the previous version of this chapter, i gave peter and pepper the same soulflower. this was absolutely unintentional and one of my good friends pointed it out to me.  
> Daisy has two meanings; strong will and innocence. For Pepper, it meant strong will; Peter innocence. I've changed his to a different flower, a white lily. Again this was 100% unintentional and I didn't notice it at all.

Hey all! This is just going to be an extra chapter with some more insight into the world of Bloom and how the whole flower thing works, along with who has what flowers ;)))  
Some stuff I can’t give out due to it being spoiler-y, sorry!

Okay so! Important things to note:  
Everyone’s death to flower count is different. This number represents how many people they have to directly or indirectly kill for one flower. The lower the person’s death count, the lower their flower count. For example, Sam Wilson has a ratio of one to one, since he hasn’t killed anyone, whereas Peter Parker has a ratio of one to five.

Secondly, there are people who are ‘immune’ to the flowers growing on other parts of their skin. For example, Clint’s only cover his fingers that he uses to draw and shoot the bow, but they are very very tiny. You can’t see the individual flowers with the naked eye, but it’s widely known that he has a lot.

Tony: His flowers are (currently) up to his lower hip. Since his death total is so high, he has a death-to-flower ratio of 1000 deaths to 1 flower. ‘nat that seems like a lot’ trust me it is a lot. its. its over 10,000 on his fingers alone. take a moment to think about that. His soulflower is a deadly nightshade.

Steve: Has a death to flower ratio of one to five – you’ll find out in chapter four – his flower is a tigerlily

Bucky: one to 500 you’ll find out in chapter three ;))) – His soulflower is a deadly nightshade, this is a winteriron fic.

Clint: one to 100 – has ten flowers on his fingers used to draw the bow. – purple lily

Natasha: one to 100 – has ten flowers on her fingers and five on each foot. – a red rose

Bruce: one to five hundred – has five flowers on his fingers. -- Lavender

Hulk: one to a thousand – his are barely visible, but he has them all the way up to his thighs. – Lotus flower

Peter: one to five – He has one flower on his middle finger. -- white lily

Sam: one to one – Sam doesn’t actually have any flowers. – white rose

Wanda: one to one hundred – has flowers on her fingers and tops of her feet. They equal out to fourteen. – Petunia

Rhodey: one to five – has two flowers on his fingers -- Gladiolus

Pepper: one to one – has no flowers -- Daisy

that's all for now! next chapter introduces Bucky and the Winter Soldier in their pov's.


	4. chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (depictions of torture, dissociation and non-consensual hand wavy science procedures)

It starts when he falls.  
His flower was the first thing they tried to strip away, but for some reason it kept coming back. They would carve it off his skin, leaving him to writhe in pain as it slowly stitched itself back together from whatever they had injected him with.

It doesn’t take long for him to break. Once they implant the trigger words, it’s over. Any fight he had left—gone with the blink of an eye. It allows them to cut off his right arm, replacing it with a metal killing machine. That’s what he becomes; a feared and merciless assassin known only as ‘ghost’ within the community. It’s easy to slip into the forced Winter Soldier mindset after a few times, like he’s watching his life and actions from behind a TV screen.  
The flowers creep higher up his knees.

When he comes back to himself, there’s a woman lying dead on the pavement. A man – Howard Stark—his brain supplies, is dead in the seat of his car. The familiar burn of a new flower causes him to wince, making a mental note that this made five. When it was first like this, him coming too in places he swore he wasn’t before, it made him panic. Now it’s routine. His alters killing methods are brutal and efficient, snapped necks and nearly invisible stab wounds make it easily concealable as an accident. The familiar sting behind his eyes causes him to look towards the sky, dried blood now speckled on his hands.

He calls himself Winter. He and Bucky don’t talk much, they have a journal for communication if worst comes to worst. His handlers like Winter better, clearly, so Bucky lets him be in charge more often than not. While the blood is on his hands, yes, it’s a secret relief that he doesn’t have the see the light draining out of his victim’s eyes. Winter get’s the job done the retreats, a constant presence at the back of Bucky’s mind.

He brushes himself off and begins the journey back to base.

It takes James Barnes eighty years to fight off the HYDRA conditioning, and for once he is finally free.  
Then Steve finds him, gets involved, and everything goes to hell from there. Bucky’s kept in the dark and Winter is pissed about that. Winter likes information, knowing things and mission parameters. They’re mission less right now, meaning Winter is agitated and restless. He keeps trying to take control, and it takes all of Bucky’s strength with a ‘you’ll get time soon.’ to keep him at bay. He understands, he really does, but the last thing Steve needs to find out is that his friend has another personality; one which doesn’t have a moral compass and is lost without orders.

Then the civil war happens. Bucky doesn’t understand what’s happening, not really, and all Steve tells him is that he has to fight. So Winter forces his way out, does things like they always do, and then retreats. Steve doesn’t seem to notice, and neither do the other ex avengers. He blinks and they’re all fugitives now, seeking refuge in a place known as Wakanda. He agrees to cyro while the Wakandan doctor’s work out a method to deactivate the trigger words, and the cold is a familiar yet comforting presence to him.

The next time he’s awoken, Bucky notices that he’s in a different place. This definitely isn’t Wakanda, and at the threat of the unknown the Soldier pushes forward. It isn’t soon after that a lady in a labcoat quietly comes into the room, placing her hands in palm forward in a surrender. 

“Hey there, James. My name’s Helen Cho, I’m your lead doctor. You’ve been pardoned and transported to the Stark Tower.” She gently states, though her posture suggests she’s on guard. It’s now that he realizes there’s not really anything attached to him-- a heart rate monitor and an intravenous, but nothing to suggest they were screwing with his body. 

Helen seems to notice his posture relaxing and slowly approaches, giving him the chance to tell her to stop. She notices him glancing towards the IV bag and decides to put the assassin at ease.

“It’s just a saline solution to provide fluids. You were quite dehydrated after coming out of cyro, so we decided it was best to start a line. Nothing else will go in there without your explicit permission.” She explains, beginning to check his vitals. 

“As to how this entire thing transpired,” Helen started, her tone taking more of a frustrated one, “-I’ll let Mister Stark explain that for himself. I’m not sure about all the details.” With that she finishes her checks, jotting notes onto a sheet on a clipboard. 

“The Wakandan doctor’s implanted a device to stop the trigger words. We’ll be testing those once Mr. Stark is back, under his supervision. Until then, you’re free to look around the tower. FRIDAY will help you. If there’s any problems, please come and see me.” She finishes, sending a small smile his way 

FRIDAY watches as the man known as ‘Mister Barnes’ enters the elevator, and decides to make her presence known. 

“Good Morning, Mister Barnes. It is currently 9:33 am, and Mister Stark will be returning at 10.” The AI warmly greets, hoping to put the tense man somewhat at ease. He looks ill at ease, glancing around and looking for the source of her voice. 

“Mister Stark has a floor prepared for you to use. I will take you there now.” She states, staring up the elevator. Barnes flinches slightly, eyes staring straight forward. He all but runs off the elevator once they arrive, not bothering to turn on the lights and instead following the dim ones along the floor. FRIDAY directs him to his room, saying goodbye and leaving him to his own devices. His creator’s room is the only one she watches 24/7, for the threat to him is far higher than the winter soldier. She takes a moment to black out his curtains before leaving completely, focusing her attention on other tasks. 

Bucky enters the room, checking for all possible exits and hiding places for weapons. He finds a simple, slim box on his made bed. Confused, Bucky opens the box to find two knives. They appear to be beautifully crafted, and he’s pleasantly surprised to find that they are lightweight as well. He takes a moment to place one under his pillow, leaving the other in the box and placing it off to the side of the bed. 

In the drawers he finds fitting clothing and takes the chance to change interest something more comfortable. Bucky takes a second-long glance in the mirror, noticing something that made his heart stop.

The flowers peek up above the edges of his hips. He’s violently dissociating not a second later, forcing Winter to the front without a second thought. Winter appears confused, wondering what managed to work Bucky up in such a state. He’d never admit it, but Winter… worries about Bucky. He cares. It takes the soldier a moment to realized what set Bucky off so suddenly: the flowers peeking above the line of his jogging pants. His heart does a strange clench at the sight, a small portion of sadness making its way into his mind. Winter never really cared about the flowers, but Bucky seemed to hate them with a burning passion. 

Winter didn’t know much: he knew they were safe, that they had been pardoned, that he had a flower and that everything would be okay-- but it still seemed unwise to show the flowers. Winter finishes getting dressed, covering the tall mirror with a spare jacket found in the closet. 

Winter is scared, fear running constantly through his veins. There were no orders, no punishments, no nothing. The lack of scared him, made him constantly on guard and uneasy. He hates it- hates being unable to relax. He can’t trust that he’s safe. Bucky’s unwilling to come back, and Winter isn’t going to force him. It’s fine-- he’s gone a long time fronting before, this wouldn’t be able different. Winter stashed away the other knife, looking through every nook and cranny of the room. In the bedside drawer he found a journal and a pen. That would come in handy for sure.  
Winter was snapped out of this search by a calm and quiet female voice. 

“Mister Barnes? Mister Stark has arrived, it’s ten am. Once again, I am FRIDAY. I live here in the tower and watch over everyone.” She restates, as if knowing that Bucky was no longer in the room.   
He nods, slipping a third knife into the band on his thigh. Better to be safe than sorry. FRIDAY directs him to the common room, where a man shorter than him is waiting. 

This must be Tony Stark, son of Howard and Maria, his brain supplied. Mission number one hundred and twenty five. 

This was bound to be an interesting conversation.


	5. chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you do my sunshine. without them, this chapter wouldn't have been finished.  
> see that ‘anti team cap’ tag? yes? this chapter is where that comes in. depictions of serious injury and DID.

Tony could tell something was off the second James Barnes walked in the room.

This man was more confident, walking in like he owned the place. His stance showed that he was ready for a fight, ready to defend himself if anything so much as shifted. It takes his brain longer than he’d like to admit to push the thought of Dissociative Identity Disorder forward.  
Ah.  
So this must be Winter. Good to know.

“Tony Stark.” He introduced himself quickly, continuing before Winter could get a word in

“As you know, there’s multiple conditions you have to follow for your pardon. You should have been informed by FRIDAY-” A quick glance to the ceiling. Nothing followed, so Tony assumed his baby girl had forgotten. The thought made him joyful, a sign that she was growing even more.

“-but I’ll tell you again. You have to go to therapy twice a week with a SHIELD registered psychologist. Yes, I know, it’s a pain in the ass, but you’ve got to. Until you’re deemed stable, you can’t leave the tower. The roof is your, have at it, but you can’t go into civilization. You’ve gotta work with me to get those words outta your head-- you know, the ones that make you go all murder-y. Finally,” Tony gestured towards the metal arm and winced, knowing it was way too heavy and probably hurt.

“That’s gotta go. I’ll make you a brand new one, free, obviously, but I can’t have HYDRA tech just laying around in my tower. As long as you follow those, we’ll get along just fine.” He finished, raising an eyebrow in Winter’s direction.

Winter nodded, making the decision that it would be the best for the both of them. He didn’t normally make decisions like this-- the mundane was Bucky’s job-- but this one was fine. Winter looked the man over, doing the threat assessment he’d done so many times before. His eyes stopped dead on the inventor’s bare wrists, catching on the nightshade flower that wrapped around his right one. The same flower that could be found around the body’s ankle. His heartbeat picked up, Winter glancing towards Tony’s face once more. He’d been told about soulmates, a long time ago-- Bucky knew more about that than he did. They were a weakness to be exploited, something to make others do what he wanted. People would do anything for their soulmates. Looking at the man Tony Stark was; what he’d read, what his superiors had informed him-- Tony Stark was dangerous. He didn’t need protection.

Winter would protect him anyways.

 

It took Bucky exactly three minutes to figure out Winter knew. The assassin wasn’t exactly on guard with Bucky; they’d come that far in all the time they’d spent together. Bucky himself had known for a long time, the moment he’d woken up fronting so long ago in the HYDRA base. Bucky and Winter didn’t agree on a lot of things-- but they both agreed on this.  
Falling in love with Tony Stark would be as easy as falling asleep.

In the two years it takes for the rogue avengers to be pardoned, a lot happens.   
It takes Bucky and Winter a week to fall in love with Tony Stark.  
James Rhodes, Tony’s best friend, finds out about the soulmark. Both Winter and Bucky get the shovel talk from him, with a clap on the shoulder and a “You should tell him.” at the end.  
They both learn a lot about Tony; how he’s passionate and kind, but wears a mask so well it could anyone but those closest to him. He loves talking about his inventions and loves working on Bucky’s arm even more. They learn that Tony’s afraid of small spaces and the dark. They learn he loves to read and likes sugar on his popcorn, that he drinks way too much black coffee and sleeps too little. They learn he’s touch starved and loves hugs (they make an effort to hold his hand a lot more).

6 months later Bucky goes outside for the first time since 1940 and nearly cries.

It takes Tony three weeks to fall in love with Bucky and Winter.  
He learns that Bucky drinks his coffee with milk and sugar. That he loves to read and likes dried fruit. That him and Winter share the body 50/50, and that Bucky takes care of the mundane decisions. That Bucky loves comedies and Brooklyn 99. That he loves being up high but loves asian cuisine even more. Bucky likes baking, and Tony has, more than once, woken up to a kitchen filled with baked goods.  
He learns that Winter’s scared most of the time. That he shoves his guilt down so it doesn’t kill him. That he’s the one doing most of the therapy sessions. That, while Bucky loves to bake, cooking is Winter’s forte. That he loves soft things and stuffed animals. That he loves reality tv and cooking shows, always trying new things and new food. That his eyes go soft when he looks at Tony and Rhodey, that he’s finally able to trust again after so long of being hurt. 

All of them fall in love, and they fall in love hard.  
Bucky and Winter had finally decided to tell Tony about the mark; the one that showed they were destined to be together, that Tony shouldn’t feel so guilty over falling in love with his soulmates.

Of course, the Rogues had to come back. And that plan was ripped apart at the seams.

Tone begins to lock himself away in the workshop, desperate to have no interaction with the people he once called family. His soulmates manage to coax him out after three days with promises of silly movies and sleep. They’ve all become a master at avoiding the others, Bucky playing the ‘I’ve been with Tony for so long and he trusts me.” card more often than he’d like to admit, He skips out on so-called team dinners, opting to eat a home-cooked meal with Tony in the lab than deal with the pitiful stares and warning about how ‘Tony’s just using him, how he isn’t good and will only hurt him.’ The rogues are aware of how close Tony, Bucky and Winter have grown; Bucky and Winter plan to keep it that way. Tony runs into one of them every once in a while. It’s filled with awkward silence and meaningless conversations, Steve starting to talk and Tony abruptly leaving. He can tell they’re frustrated; that Tony isn’t all accepting, that they aren’t the so-called ‘family’ again that Steve wants them to be.

How can they, after everything that’s happened? How can Tony trust them again after Steve literally drove his shield through the thing that kept him alive?

As if the Rouges living with them, the mean comments meant to rip him apart bit by bit, the coldness and the lies weren’t enough?

Aliens decided to attack.

Fucking _aliens_ , of all things. Aliens who used EMPs like they were bullets, energy seemingly endless. it was at this moment Tony was grateful he remember to upgrade the suit against EMPs. Normally they’d cause a total shut down, but now they bounced right off like everything else. At least, the normal ones did. The fight was going well until they brought out the cannon-looking machines that fired what looked to be lazers. Lazers, off all things! They were still electromagnetic, so they didn’t really cause that much damage to the surrounding area, thank god. No one else seemed to be affected by them, but they could still knock a super soldier on their ass if they got hit. No one else but Tony. He knew something was wrong the minute the beam hit him, the electricity racing through the suit’s systems and frying them instantaneously.

Then he was free falling.  

Tony could hear Winter all by screaming into his ear as he plummeted towards the ground, suit offline and Friday desperately trying to reboot it. While EMP’s weren’t supposed to do anything, he hadn’t accounted for the fact that alien technology might amplify- or change the wavelength of it entirely. This had been his mistake-- and now, he was going to die for it. Tony’s vision went blurry as he fell, blood from the gaping wound in his side pooling in the armour around his feet. His vision went dark soon after that, Tony welcoming the endless sleep.

 

When Tony Stark hit the pavement, his heart had stopped beating.  
It was eerily similar to New York, yet at the same time so different.

 

For Bucky? Everything _stopped._ Freeze frame, full stop. He knew he should be running, starting CPR and trying to bring his soulmate back to life, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t move. Winter was a constant scream in the back on his mind as he tried to get his body to move, to do anything-- but he couldn’t. Bucky was shocked back to himself when his knees hit the pavement, jolts of pain running through the joints. He could see-- see Rhodey running towards Tony, disengaging the suit in its entirety before being pulled back. He could see Steve starting CPR, _what he should be doing_ , the others slowly crowding around.

And, well.

He could see the eyes going to the flowers that littered Tony’s legs and hips. He could see the faces slowly warping from confusion to realization to pure and utter disappointment and _disgust._ Bucky heard a harsh and whispered ‘Steve!’ and the look. The _look_ that crossed his best friend’s face when he saw the flower’s on Bucky’s soulmate. The way he stopped pumping Tony’s chest and breathing life into his lungs, as if he wasn’t _worthy_ of being saved. The way the other’s began to walk away, Rhodey off trying to regain control of himself, not being able to see the fact that these people have taken God’s job into their own hands.

Fuck that.

They hadn’t spent the past two years with Tony. They hadn’t seen the way he wore a mask like it was truly him. They hadn’t seen how his eyes light up when he talks about the inconsistencies and how ‘ _that’s theoretically impossible_ ’ during movies. The way he’s so touch starved yet so so careful and delicate. The way he tries so hard to not care about what other people think when in reality he cares too much.

They hadn’t taken the time to see the real Tony Stark, just the one he wanted them to see. The one that they deemed unworthy of living because of the _beautiful_ flowers that adorn his skin.

Bucky stood carefully, pushing Winter down as hard as he could before racing forward to the body that lay broken and bleeding. It was a perfect replicate of what happened in Siberia, Steve leaving his soulmate broken and bruised. Winter had no doubt that, if Tony had really been trying to kill them, they’d be dead-- and neither did Bucky. Tony was in a tank top and shorts, his number one choice of clothing for the armour. CPR came easy to him-- using 10% of his strength, it was easy to do without wearing himself out. Footsteps approaching caused Bucky to spare a glance up-- just a moment, but just long enough to see Rhodey racing towards him with a stretcher and a medical team. He looked furious; no doubt in Bucky’s mind that he’d seen what had happened.

Tony was still unconscious when they arrived, the medical team all but pushing Bucky off and taking over. Within the next few moments they had his heart restarted. Tony was on his way to the tower where Helen Cho was waiting to take him into surgery. The dust settles as quickly as it stirred, leaving the rest of the avengers in the broken streets of New York. James Rhodes had decided to go with Tony not only as his best friend and brother, but as his Medical Power of Attorney-- a power that would be turned over to Tony’s soulmate when the time came. Bucky was sure James knew; the man was quite observant. If he did, he didn’t said anything.

Steve was marching towards him with a face of anger and confusion. Winter silently slipped into the front, pushing Bucky back in fear of confrontation. Winter was already pissed as it was-- he was just _itching_ for an excuse to punch Captain God here square in the face. Who did he think he was, playing with a person’s life like that. Winter cracked his neck and squared his shoulders, Bucky a constant thrum on the edge of his mind.

“What the _hell_ was that Bucky?!” Steve questioned, tone angry and displeased. Winter’s face morphed into a glare.

“You left him to die.” Winter spat, Russian accent coming through thick. Blood was thundering in his ears, and it took all the self restraint HYDRA had pummeled into him to not beat the Captain within a half inch of his life. More footsteps as the rest of the Avengers (saufe Bruce, he was currently in the Hulk containment chamber) crowded around the two friends. Winter hadn’t fronted for a while, let alone in the middle of a battle. Something must have happened to trigger Winter, to bring him out so suddenly and so fiercely.

“He has- No, didn’t you see? Didn’t you see the flowers? He’s _killed_ so many people, Buck. So many that they’re up to his _hip._ Not you or Clint, hell even _Nat_ have that many!” Steve exclaimed, not caring at the crowd that was beginning to form. Before Winter could take a step forward, the archer grabbed Steve’s wrist. Winter was confused, just for a moment; wasn’t the archer on Steve’s side?

“This is not the time or the place.” Clint hissed, releasing Steve’s wrist with a glare. Clint glanced towards Winter, bowing his chin and walking off in the direction of the helicarriers. The widow fell in step beside him, walking onto the black jet with an air of confidence. Steve’s face had turned to that of concern, and he reached out towards Winter to seemingly guide him to the jet. Winter all but slapped Steve’s hand away, walking onto the jet and taking a seat. Bucky slid back to the front, closing his eyes for the flight back to the compound. He was sure Steve would want to talk about this later, and he sure as hell wasn’t looking forward to it.

The time came exactly twenty two minutes after the avengers arrived back at the compound. James had wanted to see his soulmate who was currently in critical condition, but was told to eat something and get a shower before he’d be let anywhere near Tony. He’d showered in ten minutes, throwing on his most comfortable clothing with not leaving his soulmate’s side in mind. Winter was thrumming on the edge of his mind, satisfied at the fact that they were going to be able to protect Tony soon.

Of course, things had to go sideways _just_ before they were going to leave. Steve walked into the communal floor, FRIDAY giving Bucky about a ten second heads up. Bucky had enough time to gain his composure and squash down his anger before Steve walked in, face filled with worry for his best friend. _Funny. That should be directed towards Tony,_ he thought, shaking his head and forcing a small smile on his face. As if he was happy to see Steve, the man who was quite content just to let Tony die on the concrete street of New York. Steve looked relaxed, a small smile coming on at the sight of his best friend, his _brother._ He’d been quite worried at Bucky’s relation earlier, and had wanted to sit down to have a good talk about what was going on. Steve had thought on it for a while, why Bucky would want to save Tony-- but ultimately came up with nothing. After debating with himself, Steve had decided to just ask Bucky himself. Steve had chosen this time to approach Bucky because he knew they’d be alone-- this wasn’t a conversation to have with others around, although Steve would probably fill his team in on the details later. Bucky sat on the opposite end of the sofa, forcing himself to be relaxed and calm. He just had to get through this… whatever it was, then he could see Tony. Then he could stay by Tony’s side until he woke up, explain that he was his soulmate and tell him everything he’s ever wanted to say. Tell him that he loves him, that he’d protect him (even though he didn’t need protecting), that he wouldn’t leave him. 

He just had to get through this first.

"Wanna explain to me what happened out there?” Steve questioned, tone light, as if he hadn’t just asked why Bucky had saved Tony’s life.

“Tony was dying, Steve. I’m more shocked at the fact you were letting your best friend die on the pavement because of some fuckin flowers.” Bucky replied, anger seeping through without his permission. In a split second Bucky calmed himself, trying to keep the conversation civil. The knew how Steve’s mind worked; how he was ignorant and refused to see that he was wrong. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as his mind processed what Bucky had said.

“Didn’t you…. didn’t you see the flowers, Buck?” This question came out soft, so soft. Almost pitying. If Buck hadn’t had supersoldier hearing, he was sure he wouldn’t have picked it up. What did Steve think he was, stupid?

“Of course I saw the flowers. Tony’s also a human being. You had no right playing God.” Bucky spat, no longer trying to hide his anger. His jaw was clenched, knuckles turning white at how hard he gripped the sofa chair. It was talking all his control not to lose it on his ignorant, oblivious friend.

“He is a _human being._ I have flowers too, but you don’t seem to mind th-”

“That was HYDRA, Buck, come on! Tony did those things _willingly_ , for his own selfish gain!” Steve exclaimed, shooting up out of his chair with a raised voice. He was gesturing towards Bucky, who, in turn, also stood.  Winter forced himself forward, shoving Bucky to the side and taking control. Her didn’t normally do this, didn’t normally push Bucky aside, but this was the exception. Steve didn’t realize just who _exactly_ Tony was to them-- not that Winter could blame him, he kept that shit on lock. The back of his neck burned, the familiar sting of flowers making it’s way up to about halfway. Winter crossed his arms, drawing himself up to full height for the confrontation that was sure to come. Steve didn’t like him, always whining and complaining about ‘wanting Bucky back’ and ‘You’re not him.’, which was bullshit. Steve seemed to notice the change and took a healthy step back, putting some distance between himself and the assassin.

“The level of ignorance you have always amazes me, Steve Rogers.” Winter started, narrowing his eyes towards the blond. The words were thick with the Russian accent that came through, Steve flinching slightly.

“Y-... you’re _him_ , aren’t you? We were in the middle of a conversation.” Steve started, cutting off when Winter sent him a glare that could freeze water.

“Are you that oblivious? Is is that hard to understand that we care about Tony? That we’re both clearly _pissed_ you decided to let him die in the street?” Winter questioned relentlessly, not giving Steve time to think between questions. Steve’s face once again morphed into confusion, as if having trouble understanding that people cared for Tony Stark.

“I’m only going to say this once, so listen up. Tony isn’t good. Tony is a horrible, horrible human being. The flowers on his hips show that. Once the media gets ahold of this? He’s over. Done. I don’t want Buck to be caught up in that. Tony has the maturity of a seventeen ye-” Winter lurched forward not even a second after the trigger word had left Steve’s mouth, punching him straight in the nose. In the distance an alarm went off, and Winter could hear FRIDAY’s voice in the distance. He stared for a moment at Steve, who was now lying unconscious on the floor with blood flowing out of his nose. _It was the least he deserved,_ Winter thought, walking towards the staircase.

He was going to see his soulmate now that the conversation had finished.

No one would get in his way.


	6. chapter five

Nothing stopped him.  
Well, nothing but a nurse who politely asked that he keep his voice down while he’s in the room with Tony. It had seemed that everyone had been notified on their change of relationship from friends to lovers: everyone but the rouges. Both of them planned to keep it that way for their sakes. Bucky was worried that Steve would throw a fit (look at what had happened when he learned that they were friends.) and neither of them wanted to deal with him.

Bucky was cofronting when they walked in the room. Winter felt a twinge of discomfort from him-- Bucky never did like hospitals, the fear only heightened by HYDRA. Most of that discomfort went away when they finally laid eyes on Tony. He was hooked up to multiple machines, the most prominent being a heart rate monitor. It was quietly beeping a constant beat, assuring the two that Tony was still alive. Bucky slipped quietly to the front, Winter fading to the back of his mind, still a constant presence.

It was… frightening to see Tony like this. His heart had stopped and he had been dead. The thought of that sent fear and despair racing through Bucky’s veins. The emotions hit him like a truck, straight out of nowhere. Bucky stumbled towards the hard plastic chair, all but dropping into it beside Tony’s bed. His hand was shaking when he grabbed Tony’s, trying to keep the emotions of nearly losing the person he loved at bay. Needless to say, it didn't work. The nurses kindly stayed out of the room as Bucky broke down, the facade of everything being okay finally broken. He hadn’t realized he was crying until the tears dripped down his cheeks, Bucky unwilling to wipe them away. He ended up falling asleep with his head leaning on Tony’s bed, relieved yet terrified at the same time.

Waking up was strange. It should have been easy, but Tony’s eyelids felt like weights. It took a good amount of time before he finally mustered the energy, forcing them open only to see darkness. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark as his other senses returned. There was a faint beeping of a heart monitor in the background and a strange pressure on his right hand. It took a while for his kind to get up to speed-- pain meds, his brain supplied. Good to know. Turning his head, Tony noticed that there was someone asleep against the bed.

Bucky. _Oh Bucky._

Tony didn't remember a lot: a sense of falling and someone screaming in the comms, but he knew it hadn't been good. His body felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Twice. His tiny movements had apparently roused Bucky, who looked like he’d been through hell and back. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and his eyes were puffy.

“Oh _baby_ ,” Tony breathed, gently slipping his hand out of Bucky’s grip and placing it on his jaw. Bucky leaned into the touch, sniffling and hiccuping slightly. Bucky breathed a shaky sigh, taking a moment to gather himself and sending Tony a watery smile. They stayed like that for a little while, Bakunin each other's presence, before Tony spoke again.

“Come here, then, my love.” With Bucky’s help he carefully scooched over, Bucky shuffling into a bed and carefully wrapping Tony up in his arms. Tony’s head laid on Bucky’s chest, taking solace in his heartbeat.

“You were dead,” Bucky started, tightening his grip every so slightly.  
“You were dead and they saw your flowers and they just _left you there to die._ ” He said, working himself up into a tangent. Tony stayed silent, knowing that Bucky needed to get this out of his system. His tone was getting more angered, as if he had been personally offended.

“I know you all haven't been getting along, and I know what Steve did was horrible, but he just left you to die and I can't forgive that.” He ranted, pressing his fingers against Tony’s pulse point of his wrist. Bucky took a couple breaths, signalling to Tony that he was done talking. The latter sighed sadly, lacing their fingers together and holding on. They could deal with this in the morning: it wasn’t like Tony was going anywhere for awhile.

Rhodey and Pepper ended up coming early the next day, giving him a mini lecture with tears in both of their eyes.

Bucky ended up leaving to get a shower and some food in the morning, much to Tony’s dismay. Tony himself wasn’t on solid foods yet, and he couldn't wait to eat a juicy steak again. One of the nurses had brought him a tablet and ear comm so that he could not only entertain himself, but connect with FRIDAY. FRIDAY who, by the tone of her voice, had been utter terrified when her creator when he went down. She was the one who had first realized his heart was stopped, and has even recorded the rogues leaving him to die. Watching the video of his teammates giving up on him was somehow harder than the civil war.

Then came the panic.  
They knew about his flowers. He often wore shorts under the armour, so there was no way they didn't see when it was ripped off of him. No wonder they had left him; Tony knew their society didn’t take kindly to flowers, let alone a man who was covered in them. He didn’t want to be kicked off the team, not really, but what other choice would he have? Who wanted to work, let alone trust someone with as many flowers as himself? He tried not to dwell but his brain was a minefield ready to explode with anxiety. Tony hadn’t expected the day to get any worse; he’d been expecting the footsteps in the hallway to be Bucky, not the rogues. Needless to say, their faces were quite the unpleasant surprise. Typical of them to ambush him when he literally cannot move.  
Natasha, Clint and Wanda all walked into the room.  
Tony wanted to sink into the mattress and not come out.  
Natasha, Clint and Wanda all came and stood beside his bed, silent.  
It took all of Tony’s willpower to keep his heartbeat steady.

“Got your head out of your ass now that everyone knows your dirty little secret, _Stark_?” Clint spat his name as if it was a curse, as if it physically pained him to say. Tony subconsciously flinched, so quick and small that no one had noticed.  
“I’-”  
“No, Stark, you don’t get to talk. You’re going to listen for once.” Natasha interjected, not allowing Tony even a hit of breathing room. Tony snapped his mouth shut, not wanting to piss them off more and prayed Bucky got back soon.

“I always knew you were a murderer, but I never knew you took so much delight in it.” Wanda’s lips curled in disgust as she said her piece, magic dancing on her fingertips and begging to be unleashed.  
“I guess they didn’t call you a merchant of death for nothing.”

  
“I bet you have your mother’s flower, did you kill her too?” The room went silent at Natasha’s softly asked question-- so quiet one could hear a pin drop if now for the monitors. Wanda had pulled that one off of him the second she got close enough, turning off the machine with a flick of the wrist before any nurses could come running. Tony was shocked, staring at Natasha with wide eyes. A few moments later she spoke again, voice filled with malice:  
“I asked a question. I expect an answer.”

Tony didn’t have one. He had always been sure, so sure, that his father had gotten those flowers. Tony hadn’t been involved in that in any way... right? Clint snorted moments later, saying one last final “I guess you’re finally worse than your father.” before leaving the room. The two women followed shortly after, Natasha putting an arm around Wanda and all but slamming the door behind her. Tony’s vision went blurry slowly. He blinked and tears were falling down his cheeks, shocking him every so slightly. Verbal jabs hadn’t hurt him since second grade, so why now? Why, after all this time, did it feel like his heart was slowly breaking to pieces?  
For not the first time Tony broke own silently, slowly, and alone.  
Bucky came back five minutes after Tony had stopped crying, cursing Steve’s name and muttering Russian under his breath. He’d seen the tell-tale signs right away and had to restrain himself from bomboarding Tony with questions. He was gone half an hour, surely nothing had happened in that time? Bucky shook his head and walked over to the bed, sitting on the side and staring deep into Tony’s eyes. Tony was the best bullshiter Bucky knew, but his eyes would always give his true emotions away.

“Did somethin happen doll?” Bucky quietly questioned, looking for any reaction Tony may give.  
The smile Tony plastered on his face was obviously very fake. It wouldn’t have fooled anyone, and Bucky was grateful he was the only one there.  
“ ‘Course not darling. Just me and FRIDAY, you know how it is.” His tone was forced to lightness, so much so that it made Bucky’s heart break. He’d had a conversation, long ago with Tony, that he was allowed to be vulnerable: to not be okay. It seems they’d have to have a reminder talk sometime in the future. Bucky let it go, just this once, and took his place back beside Tony. Tony was safe; that was all that mattered. They could deal with anything else later.

It took two weeks of Tony going stir-crazy before he was released from the hospital. There were conditions of course: no active duty for at least another two weeks, and a few more that Tony was hell bent on ignoring. He ignored and avoided the rogue avengers like the plague, even enlisting FRIDAY to help keep track. There was a point, however, when things would come to a head.  
Bucky ended up getting called out on a mission, him being deemed alright for active duty and the avengers down an iron man. Tony had locked himself in the lab, promising to come to bed as soon as Bucky got back.

In hindsight, Bucky should’ve known better than to dawdle. Sam had wanted to talk to him, something about SHIELD therapists and what they’re like. He ended up getting sidetracked.  
Steve went down to the lab. FRIDAY refused him entry. Steve tried his override code. FRIDAY said quite the snarky remark, and refused him entry. Steve used his ‘once-and-only-in-emergencies’ code. FRIDAY was forced to let him enter, with only a quick “Boss, shields up,” to warn Tony of the incoming threat. Within second Tony had a gauntlet on and aimed towards Steve’s chest, causing the super soldier to take a step back in surprise.

“Tony, hey. I just wanna talk.” Steve said softly, putting his arms up in surrender. He wasn’t here to call Tony out, no, but this isolation had to stop. Steve had his reasons, and if Tony’d just let him explain, everything would be able to go back to the way it was.  
“Yes, well Rogers, I don’t quite feel like talking. Now get out.” Tony seethed, repulser dropping back towards his side. God, what did Rogers think he was doing? Tony made a mental note to deactivate the rest of the emergency codes once this ‘talk’ was over and done with. He didn’t need anyone else unwanted barging in when he was trying to work.  
“Tony, come on. This isolation? It’s gotta stop. I get it, you’re pissed, but if you would just liste-”  
“I don’t want to listen! You left me! On the cement in the middle of New York to let me DIE.!” Tony interrupted, voice growing louder with each sentence. He’d had enough of this, and now he was going to make it stop.

“Tony, we all saw your flowers. You know what that means, what were we supposed to think? We were supposed to be a team, a family, and you kept this from us! Everyone is really hurt, Tony. Stop thinking about yourself for just one second and think about us.” Steve explained, slowly starting to lose his temper with the man. He was a genius, after all, how hard was it to figure this all out?

“Stop trying to pin this on me! You’re the one who fucked up. What part of ‘you left me to die’ do you not understand?” Tony questioned, hurt lacing his voice. By this point he was more exhausted than hurt, just wanting the conversation to be over and done with already. He hadn’t slept in 24 hours and really wanted to cuddle with Bucky.

“We left you to die because you deserved it. You know you did. Anyone else would have done the same.” Steve hissed, anger finally getting the best of him. Tony reeled back, confusing quickly coming over his face. The mask had broken, every so slightly, and Steve could see that it was finally coming down. Steve hated doing this, but sometimes Tony needed some tough love and someone to be blunt. Winter, who had been notified by FRIDAY, came storming in. Bucky had quickly gave up control as anger rushed through the Winter Soldier.

Steve didn’t even had time to think before he was on the floor being ruthlessly beat. The only thing Steve could do was put his hands and arms up, trying to protect himself.

“Babe? Babe. Stop. Come on, everything’s fine, I’m okay, let’s stop this.” Tony pleaded, gently grabbing the metal arm. He knew it was probably a bad idea, when Winter was like this, but the other man just.. stopped. As if realizing what he had done, Winter all but jumped off Steve, pulling Tony gently to the side and checking for injuries.

“I’m okay, everything’s okay, let’s just get a shower and go to bed, yea? FRIDAY, please notify Helen that Mister Rogers is in need of medical assistance, and let her in when she gets here.” Tony stated softly, taking Winter gently by the arm and tugging him towards the elevator. Winter normally disliked the small space, getting twitchy at even the sight of it, but went without complaints. In the elevator he pulled Tony to him, hugging him and not letting go.

Winter seemed to take charge when the elevator dinged, allowing Tony to finally let the mask of fineness fall. He shook slightly, hands refusing to stay still and eyes watering as the adrenalin finally wore off. Winter guided him into a shower, washing the blood off of his own hands before touching Tony. The hot water seemed to relax him, and soon Tony was practically slumped against Winter. Not that the soldier minded. He put on some comfortable pants, lead Tony to the bed, helped him do the same, and lied down. Tony laid beside him, placing his head on Winter’s chest as they assumed the normal sleeping position. Just touch was enough to comfort the engineer, and no words were needed as Winter, finally satisfied, let Bucky take the front.

He would have to deal with Steve tomorrow.  
For now, he was here, with Tony, flowers and all.  
Both of them know this wouldn’t be the last of it. The media was sure to suck this up, especially if one of the rogues went to them. However, both of them agreed that as long as they had each other, everything would be fine.

  
Then they were ripped apart from the seams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. This is the last chapter of bloom. I’d like to thank Nat, Ollie and Atlas for pushing me to complete this and always being there for me. I’d like to thank you, the readers, for sticking around to the end. Bloom was an AU of my own creation, something i could call solely my own. It’s my first (finished) chaptered fic, and this was such a ride to be on. This fic is my baby, my cinnamon apple. And now, it’s over.  
> This is the end of bloom: part one.


	7. author's note, not an update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the author clears some things up

hey guys! not an update on the story, sorry, more like an update of what's gonna happen from here on out. 

 

long story short, i'm seriously considering rewriting bloom, or at least the first four chapters. This fic was quite rushed due to the fact I had so many ideas and no beta. There are quite a few plot holes (haha whoops) and this fic, at least to me, could be  _so much better._ Don't worry though, it's going to stay up!!

Between this and part two (hint hint) i should be re-writing a posting a new chapter to part two each month! two updates a month seems like a pretty attainable goal! 

The goals of this re-write are to clear some things up, set some boundaries for the flowers (let's be honest, the whole 'direct or indirect kill' thing is really vague), some universe rules and change the flower-to-death ratio on the avengers. 

thank you all so much once again for reading, and I hope that you'll continue reading despite this. 


	8. rewrite is up!

rewrite is up! check it out here -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/18713515

**Author's Note:**

> first of all, i'd like to thank Ell for the title and description.  
> this is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own.  
> thanks for reading, and i hope you enjoy :)


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